


The Lonely Hearts

by Rosewood_Writes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: Something's keeping Dorian awake, and he's in complete denial.





	The Lonely Hearts

Dorian stared up at the ceiling for the umpteenth time. How long had it been that he’d been lying awake? Hours? Minutes? He couldn’t tell anymore. But all that mattered was the fact that sleep was eluding him, and he wasn’t happy about it.  
What was keeping him up? He’d had a few glasses of spiced wine- not too much, but enough to thoroughly relax him. He’d read a book that Cassandra had slipped him on the sly. He hated admitting it, but he was a hopeless romantic. He’d even sat outside for some fresh air before retiring for the night. But something was still missing.  
The bed was cold, he decided. Damn the castle and its drafty walls. He was used to the warmth of Tevinter, not this bitter wind and snow. He needed more blankets. Surely that was it. But, no; there was something else missing.  
“Maker, no,” Dorian grumbled as he buried his face in the pillows. He most certainly did not miss the company of the sly elf that had charmed his way into his life. Sure, he was handsome, graceful and easy to like, but there was so much about him that made Dorian uncertain. There were the rumors, sure, but the mutterings of a few half-wits wasn't what scared him.  
It was how easily things seemed to flow between them. They got on fabulously---perhaps too well. He saw the flirting and flouncing, graciously took in the inquisitors words of praise. How could he not bask in being complimented, as a man of his calibur rightfully should? But the intention behind the advances was still a mystery to him. Was he reading too far into it?  
Despite his determination to let go of the thought and go back to sleep, he rose out of bed and slipped on one of his robes. Grabbing a candle, he trudged out of his chambers and into the gloomy hallway. He went unnoticed as he snuck down the stairs of the rotunda, pleased to find that Solas had finally vacated his research for the night. The guards patrolling the great hall paid him no mind as he briskly strode across and slipped through the door to the main tower.  
With a quick, tired sigh, he started up the seemingly endless staircase. He passed a few more guards on his way up, but they, too, paid him little mind, too busy trying to keep their eyes open to question why he was up and about at such an ungodly hour. He barely even knew himself anymore.  
Dorian paused at the door to the bedroom. He could hear Tandr snoring. Hopefully, the big, lumbering hound wasn’t asleep in front of the door again. Sucking in a short breath, he turned the knob slowly, hoping to enter unnoticed. Thankfully, there was no mabari sleeping in the entryway again. But, Dorian’s entrance didn’t go unnoticed as he had first hoped.  
“I was wondering when you would show up,” Assan said, peering down at him with a small smile from where he sat, perched upon the wall above the stairs. He pulled his knee to his chest and rested his chin upon it. “I was beginning to think you’d made up your mind.”  
“I couldn’t sleep,” Dorian protested. Despite his best efforts to seem uninterested, a smile twitched at his lips. Oh, how the Inquisitor loved to tease.  
“Of course you couldn’t; I wasn’t there to keep you warm. I know how you wilt in the cold.” He jumped down from his perch as Dorian stepped fully into the room. Assan leaned closer to him, smiling slightly as he hovered there. “I know you want this to be more than fun, Dorian. What’s stopping you?”  
“Well, this is hardly good for your reputation, is it?” Dorian asked, straightening his robe slightly and puffing out his chest. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of spilling his guts. “The Tevinter mage and the Inquisitor- we’d be quite the scandal.”  
“As if my exploits with men back with the clan weren’t,” Assan slowly ran a hand up Dorian’s chest. His long fingers slowly worked their way up his neck and eventually rested on his cheek. “I want more than this, Dorian. And I know you do to.”  
Dorian placed a hand over Assan’s, leaning into his touch. He desperately wanted to scoop the man up in his arms and hold him there. For the first time in forever, he’d finally gotten a taste of what it was to be wanted, to have what he dared not hope for. And there he was, mucking it up with his fears.  
“Stay,” Assan said, wrapping his other arm around Dorian’s middle and tucking his head into his neck. “Please.”  
“Just for the night.”  
“More than that.”  
“One night at a time, Herald.”  
They stood still for a while, silent in each other's arms. Assan’s hand slipped from Dorian’s face and onto his shoulder where it hung limply. His breath came in slow, shallow puffs on his neck. As gently as possible, Dorin lifted him up and carried him to the bed. As he pulled away, Assan's arms locked around his neck.  
“Stay.”  
“I will."


End file.
